Heart Trees
by likeshoepolish
Summary: (Set after the end of the ASoIaF series) Sansa has become Warden of the North, and Daenerys Targaryen has become Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. When Daenerys comes to visit Sansa, she brings along a surprise. (MAY CONTAIN SPOILERS FROM ASOS, AFFC, AND ADWD)
1. Chapter 1- Sansa

**Heart Trees**

_**Chapter 01**_

Sansa had taken a habit of going into the Godswood, but never praying. Instead, she spoke to her parents, as though they were standing right in front of her, wanting to hear the stories she had to tell about the years since she traveled to King's Landing when she was 11.

After she broke her fast the morning before the new queen's visit, she walked through Winterfell, greeting everyone who passed by her, until she reached the red leaves of the Godswood.

Sansa sat upon her favorite rock, and looked into the pond in front of her. "Daenerys Targaryen is visiting today, Father," she said aloud, imagining that he was standing in front of her in the flesh, with her mother at his side.

"So much has happened since she took the throne," she continued. "She had Cersei and Jaime Lannister killed. I'm not sure if I should be happy or not." She hadn't really known the Kingslayer, but Cersei had caused her so much pain...

"Theon Greyjoy is dead. He was supposed to be put to the sword for betraying Robb, and all he did here in that time, but after he received his death sentence... he fell asleep that night and didn't wake up again. They think he was finally at peace, after all that Ramsay Bolton did to him. Ramsay and his father are dead now, too.

"Jon has fully healed from his injuries. I can't even believe it, still. He was stabbed through the heart, Father. I'm told a Red Priestess gave him life again.

"I feel like there is finally some happiness. Everyone was so afraid of a Targaryen rising again, but Daenerys seems merciful. She's only three years older than me, you know.  
"I feel at peace, myself. But still I wonder, still I hope-"

"Lady Stark," Brienne's voice called from nearby. Whenever Sansa was in the Godswood, Brienne never followed, even if there was urgent news. She just called.

Brienne knew that Sansa did not pray in the Godswood.

As Sansa approached her most trusted counselor and head of her guard, Brienne spoke again. "Queen Daenerys will be in Winterfell within the hour."

"Did Her Grace say where she would like to meet?"

"She did." Brienne pulled a scroll into view. "She actually wants to meet you here."

"The Godswood? Why?"

"It doesn't say, my lady. She does say she wants to meet you alone, however."

"Alone?" That didn't make Sansa nervous, exactly, it just seemed odd. "I can't argue, I suppose. I'm going to go change into a more suitable gown, if I have time."

"You should have plenty of time, my lady."

As the two walked back to the castle, Sansa realized how fond she had grown of Brienne. Brienne had, after all, had made it her duty to find Sansa and take her back home.

When Sansa had been in The Vale as Alayne Stone, she had been told by Lord Baelish after Robert Arryn died, she would be allowed to reveal her true identity. However, Lord Baelish had died first, asassinated by his own men.

Those same men were able to locate Brienne after Sansa told them who she really was, and Brienne took her home to Winterfell, though it didn't feel like home for quite a while.

As Sansa approached the stairs to her chambers, she shook the thoughts of her miserable past out of her. _You need to be positive for the queen, _she said to herself as she looked for an appropriate gown for the day.

"Do you think the Queen is bringing her dragons, my lady?" Beth asked her as she braided Sansa's hair.

Sansa laughed. "I don't think her dragons would like the cold of the North very much."

"That's true, but a girl can only dream, my lady."

Beth was Sansa's favorite handmaiden. She was a girl of 13, three years younger than Sansa, with light brown hair and blue eyes that always danced. Sansa saw so much of herself in Beth, or at least, so much of who she was before she became betrothed to Joffrey.

"You look simply beautiful, Lady Sansa," Beth said as she finished the last plait. "I would have picked out a dress of a prettier color, though."

"It's expected of me to wear my House's colors," Sansa explained as she smoothed down her dark grey gown. "I'll wear a more festive gown to the feast tonight, I promise."

Beth smiled, and opened the door for Sansa.

Usually, Sansa would meet her guests at the front of the gates as they arrived. But she found herself standing in the Godswood, listening to Daenerys and her party ride in.

Sansa immediately felt her tummy turn itself into a knot. _It has been five years since I met a queen for the first time, and that one ended up making my life a living hell. _

Sansa stopped herself. _No. Not all women with power are like Cersei. Remember that. _

Just then, a figure showed up in the distance, and she knew it was Daenerys.

The Queen walked with such confidence; she held her head high. But it did not seem arrogant at all, it was her showing that she was comfortable with herself.

Daenerys walkes slowly, and alone. As she became closer and closer, Sansa observed her.

She had the traditional Targaryen appearance: hair so blonde it was nearly white, violet eyes, milky skin. She wore a gown the color of the midnight sky, and a black cloak for warmth. She was beautiful, but looked as though she carried many burdens, some that a 19-year-old high-born should never have to endure.

Still, Daenerys began to smile as she drew closer to Sansa. When she was actually in front of the girl, Sansa dropped to a kneel.

"Your Grace," she murmured.

"Lady Sansa," Daenerys said sweetly. "You may rise."

The Queen then motioned her towards the rocks Sansa had sat upon earlier that morning. As Sansa joined her, Daenerys gazed upon the woods. Then, she turned to Sansa. "I have to tell you, I haven't worn a gown with sleeves in a very long time. I didn't even _own _one while I was in the Free Cities. But I knew it would be cold here. I quite like it." The Queen chuckled.

Daenerys said all of this as though she and Sansa were old friends, who had not seen each other for years. Sansa laughed with her, and her stomach began to untie with relief.

"You are sixteen, correct?" she asked.

"Yes, Your Grace," Sansa replied.

"You're caring for The North better than many men twice your age have. Were you at all nervous when you took on the role?"

"I must be honest with Your Grace, I was. I thought perhaps one of my brothers would hold the position better than I could. But Jon says his place is at the Wall, and Rickon said the same in Skagos. And Bran... Bran believes he'd be terrible at it."

"Bran is the second-to-youngest?"

"Yes. He can't use his legs, you see, and he doesn't think that would make him a proper lord."

Daenerys smiled. "I've heard that Bran has a sort of power, one that not everyone has."

"He does, Your Grace. I don't really know how to explain it..."

She laughed. "Don't worry about that, Lady Sansa."

The two talked for another hour or so, about their lives. All of it was quite random, one story unraveling into the next. Sansa was surprised at how comfortable she felt around Daenerys, after all she had heard about the Targaryens. _Father, why did you all say they were mad? She is so far from mad._

As Sansa finished a story about reuniting with her sister, she noticed Daenerys was smiling.

"He has told me so many lovely things about you, you know. How you were kind to everyone, and fought your battles with words and courtesy instead of a sword. That's quite admirable."

Sansa was confused. "That's very kind, Your Grace, but... who are you talking about?"

The Queen's eyes twinkled as she waved her hand at the guards watching them.

The men stepped aside and let another walk between them.

And immediately, Sansa knew who it was, as he stepped slowly closer to her.

_Father, is this real? Mother, I didn't think..._

As Tyrion Lannister approached her and Daenerys, his mouth began to curve into a small smile. Sansa noticed his hands were softly shaking, as though he was nervous.

"Lady Sansa," he said to her, with a sort of pride in his voice. "You have survived us. You survived us all."

For a moment, Sansa completely forgot that she was in the presence of the Queen. Tears welled in her eyes and slipped down her face without stopping. Sansa knelt down, so that she could look at Tyrion's eyes, one emerald green and the other coal black.

Without thinking, she reached out and touched his scarred, rough cheek.

"My lord," Sansa replied softly. "All of our troubles set aside, I have missed you. Very, very much."


	2. Chapter 2- Tyrion

WRITER'S NOTE:

Holy moly, I didn't expect any reviews on this fic. I'm so glad people like it!

This is a relatively short fic right now, I plan on only having three chapters. However, if I can think of anything else to add, there will be more.

The first chapter was from Sansa's POV, and this one is going to be from Tyrion's.

* * *

Sansa's reaction had surprised Tyrion.

He was hesitant at first to even come with Daenerys to Winterfell. "It is very kind of you to invite me, Your Grace," he remembered telling her, "but I'm not entirely sure if Lady Stark would actually want to see me. It has been years now since we were both accused of killing my nephew, and-"

"Lord Tyrion," the Queen interrupted. "You have told me all about Lady Stark, and I can see in your eyes that you miss her. Don't you want to see her?"

He sighed. "I do, Your Grace," he answered, "But like I said, I'm certain she won't want to see me. She... She was never particularly fond of me while we were married."

"You two are technically still married, Lord Tyrion. You told me you two never consummated the marriage, but you never anulled it either."

Tyrion wasn't sure what to say then. _How old would she be now? _He remembered their wedding night. Her stripping down and immediately covering herself with her hands. When he had asked for her age, she had replied she was 13.

_And how long has it been since Joffrey was killed? Three years? She's 16, then. _

Daenerys smiled sadly as she watched Tyrion think. "My lord, it has been a long time since you and Sansa have seen one another. She is the Warden of the North now. She is free from your nephew and sister. Come with me, she may surprise you."

_How right you were, Daenerys, _Tyrion thought to himself as he watched Sansa pour wine.

"I thought you didn't like wine," he mused as she walked back to the table with two full cups.

"I've grown accustomed to it," Sansa replied with sly smile. "I spent quite a bit of time with Lord Baelish in the Eyrie, imagine how much he drank."

"I don't think I want to." He grinned at her as she sat across from him.

It was after the feast in Daenerys' honor. When all had settled down and the Queen had gone to her chambers, Sansa had asked him if he would want to come and drink with her. "I want to hear about all that has happened in your life these last three years," she had said.

They were now in the Keep of Winterfell, a tower where Sansa explained she did most of her duties as Warden of the North. "If I can do them alone, I come here."

When Tyrion noted the blankets and pillows in the corner, Sansa had laughed and said, "Sometimes I sleep here, too."

When they were out of the public eye, Sansa had loosened her auburn hair from its braids, so that it could hang down her back. Tyrion could tell that having the Queen in Winterfell was somewhat stressful, and she was much more at ease now that the day was over.

"I wasn't sure what to think of Daenerys before I met her," Sansa said as they sipped. "I've only heard stories about her father, and I was so afraid she'd be just like him. But she's very kind, and I think she's going to be a good ruler."  
"I have to tell you, I had the same thoughts. When I first met her, she seemed quite intimidating. Ser Jorah had told me her whole story beforehand."

"Ser Jorah Mormont?"

"The very one. After he was banished from Weseteros he became her adviser. But he fell in love with her, made quite a few mistakes, and found himself banished from her as well."

"How did you meet him?"

Tyrion chuckled. "I was in a brothel in Selhorys, and he abducted me. Then, we were captured by slavers and sold along with another dwarf woman we had met."

His face turned somber after that. "Ser Jorah was killed in a battle in Meereen. A stray arrow. He took his last breath in Daenerys' arms."

Tyrion was able to tell Sansa all about all that had happened after he escaped from King's Landing. From being sold into slavery, to nearly being killed by lions, to joining the Second Sons, to fighting in a battle once again, to meeting Daenerys and sailing back to Westeros. All the while, they drank, moving from the table in one corner, to the window where the moon looked so close it was as though you could try to touch it, to Sansa's sleeping space, where they were when Tyrion finished the story.

"And here I am now, drinking wine with you."

Sansa had sat quietly the whole time, looking as though she was hanging on his every word. When he was through, she smiled to herself and said, "That story reminded me of something Old Nan would tell me. She was a servent when I was a child, and she had the wildest stories." She paused and reached for his hand. "I know this one is true, but I can imagine it all in my head. You, a knight, smaller than all the rest, but so much braver."

Tyrion felt himself redden, as though he was a lustful, embarrassed 14-year-old boy again. "My lady is too kind."

She continued to smile, and rested her head on his shoulder.

When Tyrion was across the sea, he had had moments where he truly missed Sansa. He missed her courtesies, he missed her sweet-smelling dresses. Most of all, he missed all of the chances they never had, chances to get closer to one another.

He had always assumed Sansa wouldn't have ever felt the same way. He assumed she had been happier after escaping from the South, that she hadn't thought twice about her Imp husband.

As they sat on the stone floor, their heads against each other, he felt all of those assumptions fade away.

He dug up the courage to tell her about what he had thought quite quickly, and when he did, she looked at him with a shocked look in her eyes.

"Tyrion... I was very rarely happy when I first came back to the North. I wasn't even home, in Winterfell, for quite a long time.

"I was in The Vale, with Littlefinger."

_The bloody bastard, _he thought as she continued.

"Littlefinger helped me out of the South, but took me back to my aunt after coloring my hair and telling me that I would be his bastard daughter from now on, Alayne Stone. At one point, after he married my Aunt Lysa, he kissed me, and Lysa tried to kill me for it."

He felt as though his heart stopped dead in its tracks for a beat or two.

"But Lysa was the one who died. Littlefinger pushed her out of the Moon Door, and made himself Lord Protector of the Vale. He said once her son died as well, I could go by Sansa again.

"I'm sure you know he was always in love with my lady mother. He said he saw so much of her in me. And one night... he came into my chambers, calling me 'Cat', and he... he..."

"No," Tyrion whispered.

He felt Sansa nod her head under his.

"He didn't just do it once," she said, her voice heavy with tears. "He did it multiple times. I felt so stupid for trusting him, thinking I would be safe after I left.

"One night, some of his men saw him go into my chambers. He was about to start the act again when they busted down the door, and attacked him.

"Before I knew it, Littlefinger was dead on the floor."

Tyrion breathed a sigh of relief, and felt no remorse for it. _That man deserves to travel through all seven hells for what he's done to this poor girl. _

"They asked me where I should go, and for some reason... I told them who I really was. I thought maybe they would hurt me for it, but they didn't. They were very kind, and said they would take me back to Winterfell, which had been rebuilt by Lord Bolton before he and his son were killed by Stannis Baratheon's men.

"Then they found Brienne of Tarth on the road to Winterfell, and she said she had been looking for me for months, under my mother's orders. And before I knew it.. I was home."

The only sound in the Keep was Sansa's soft breathing, as she tried to compose herself. Tyrion himself was close to crying himself. _I wanted life to be better for her. _

Sansa pulled herself up and said softly, "I'm sorry I dumped all of that on you. But I did miss you. I realized when I was with Littlefinger that he did not truly care. But _you did."_

Without any warning, she pulled herself closer and kissed Tyrion on the cheek.

He turned to look at her beautiful blue eyes, their faces so close.

At the same time, their lips met. He remembered when they had been ordered to kiss at the sept at their wedding ceremony. That kiss had been loveless, forced. This one was the most passionate one he had had in so long.

_The first girl I ever loved is only a memory, _Tyrion thought to himself as he fell asleep on the floor of the Keep, tangled in blankets with Sansa on his arm. _I don't think the second ever truly loved me, and now she is rotting somewhere in the ground of the South. _

_ I have loved the third for longer than I thought. At first I believed it to be lust, but she is here now, and I know that I love her. _

_ Gods be good, don't take this one away from me. _


	3. Chapter 3- Sansa

WRITER'S NOTE:

Once again, I thank you all for your kind words on this fic.

I have decided now there are going to be four chapters and perhaps an epilogue. Since I am on summer break, I have a lot of time to write, so I should be finished by the end of next week tops, probably sooner!

This chapter is slightly shorter, and is about Sansa and Dany.

* * *

Sansa broke her fast with both Tyrion and Daenerys. While they ate, it was relatively quiet, though not tense.

Tyrion had not been certain if they should show affection for one another in front of the Queen, so they would occasionally touch one another's hands under the table.

After they had finished, Sansa was going to go back up to the Keep and see if any new ravens had come, secretly hoping Tyrion would join her. However, before she could even leave the dining hall, Daenerys touched her arm from behind.

"Lady Sansa, could we perhaps ride together? If you are not busy, I would love to see more of the North."

"Absolutely, Your Grace. Will you allow me to grab my cloak?"

Daenerys' horse's coat was a shade of grey that shone in the Northern sunlight. Sansa watched from the back of her white mare, Ash, as the Queen observed the open field they were riding through.

"All of this green," Daenerys said suddenly. "I've never seen so much of it."

"Sometimes it can be quite dreary and grey here," Sansa explained. "But when the sun is shining and the wind is blowing, it's quite beautiful. I'm happy you chose to come now, Your Grace."

The Queen looked over and smiled at her. "I am too."

Soon, they were in one of the North's many forests, crossing a wooden bridge over a creek. Daenerys stopped her horse abruptly. "This is such a beautiful spot, would you mind if we sat here for a moment?"

"Not at all, Your Grace."

When they were both back on the ground, Sansa watched as Daenerys ran her long, pale fingers across the bark of some of the trees around them. As she touched them, a wide grin spread across her face. _She is the most powerful woman in the Seven Kingdoms, _Sansa thought to herself, _But at heart, she is still a young girl. _

Leaning back against one of the oaks, Daenerys closed her eyes, still smiling. "I was married at the same age you were married to Lord Tyrion," she said softly.

Sansa was caught off-guard now. She knew it was no secret to anyone in Westeros who had been living at the time that she had been married to Tyrion. Some may say she was _still _married to him. They had never consummated the marriage, that was true. But they hadn't annulled it either.

"You were married to a Dothraki Khal, is that right, Your Grace?" Sansa asked.

"Yes. His name was Drogo. My brother sold me to him in exchange for an army. I had been told that the Dothraki were savages, all of them. Drogo was feared by all, he was never defeated in battle. But he was so gentle with me, called me the moon of his life. Very soon, I had his child in my belly. We grew to love one another.

"Drogo is dead now, and my child came into the world without breathing once. It must be five years now since I was declared a _khaleesi. _My biggest regret is that I did not tell Drogo I loved him enough. I realize now I truly did love him. I had so many suitors in Meereen, but none of them were my sun and stars."

Sansa felt tears prick at her eyes, and she willed them not to spill upon her face. She was touched that the Queen would choose to share this with her.

"Lady Sansa, I assume you know what House Targaryen's words are?"

"_Fire and Blood_," Sansa answered.

"Yes, _fire and blood. _Both run through our veins. We take what is ours with it.

"You are a woman of the North, Lady Sansa. I would say you have more ice in your veins. But I've heard tales of you before I came here, of how you fought your battles with courtesies instead of a sword. Few can do that as gracefully as you.

"I see the way you look at Lord Tyrion. He was so afraid of seeing you again; your reaction moved us all. You love him. And he loves you.

"Take what was and is yours with fire and blood, Lady Sansa. If you love Tyrion, he must know."

As Daenerys spoke, Sansa realized she had felt cold inside for quite a long time. Even after she had come home to Winterfell, it hadn't been the same. _I have no mother or father now. . Robb is with the gods. Jon and Arya have new homes. Bran and Rickon don't want to come back. All I had was myself. _

She felt the fire Daenerys Stormborn had been telling her of rise through her. _I can't be alone anymore. Because I love him. _

She looked at her Queen, and was able to smile and nod.


	4. Chapter 4- Tyrion

WRITER'S NOTE:

This is the last "official" chapter of this fic, told from Tyrion's POV. It's a bit short, but the epilogue will be longer, probably. I must once again thank you all for your kind words and support with my very first fic!

* * *

Tyrion would have paced if it didn't make his small legs ache. Sansa had gone riding with Daenerys hours ago, it was nearly time for supper. _How much of the North does she want to see?_

At last, he heard a small knock on his chambers' door. He immediately opened it, and stood before his wife again. He tried not to breathe an obvious sigh of relief as he welcomed her in. _Bloody fool, what do you think happened? The world is no longer as dangerous as it was._

Sansa's cheeks with pink with the chill from outside, and the hem of her gown was covered in mud. When she entered, she immediately walked to his window, staring at the tops of the trees and the greyish-blue sky.

As Tyrion joined her side, she spoke.

"All this time, I have assumed I was happy. I thought I should be happy. I'm home. My brothers and sister are alive. I found that I'm quite good at protecting my home.

"But I'm alone. Arya's found solitude in Braavos, Jon at the Wall, Bran in a cave, Rickon in Skagos. My father has been dead for years now. My brother too. My mother... killed twice."

Tyrion remembered the story of Lady Stoneheart, Mother Merciless, killing any man she believed responsible for her family's demise. When it became clear that she had once been the gracious wife of Ned Stark, now back from the dead looking for revenge, a Faceless Man had killed her out of mercy.

One of those killed was Tyrion's former squire, Podrick Payne. Brienne of Tarth had tried saving his life, but it was too late. Sometimes, Tyrion thought of Pod, who had saved his life once, and blamed himself for the boy's murder.

Sansa continued. "I tried very hard to be grateful for the life I had now. I was free. But alone."

She turned to look at him now, right in his mismatched, swelling eyes. "Tyrion... Since you have come back... I don't feel so alone."

He felt his face warm up, the way it always had done right before he wept. He tried to distract himself and took her hand in both of his. As he did so, he felt something cold between their skin.

It was the ring from their wedding, a gold band with a simple ruby in the center.

"You... You kept it?" he asked, his voice quavering.

She nodded, biting her lip the way she did when she tried to remain composed.

Tyrion reached into one of his pockets, and found his identical ring, and held it out to her between two fingers.

On a ship sailing away from Westeros, Tyrion had considered throwing the ring in the sea. He knew he wouldn't be known as Tyrion Lannister in Essos.

_But I am, _he had thought to himself. _I am Tyrion Lannister. I always will be. _He remembered the advice he gave everyone: "Never forget who you are, for surely the world will not."

He decided to keep his ring in his pocket, a secret. Tyrion had become many things, and one of them was a husband. _Only time will tell where I go from here_.

As he slipped the ring back on his finger, Sansa began to openly weep. "I never thanked you. For protecting me, for being kind to me."

"That's not needed," he said softly.

She dropped to her knees, so that they were at the same level. She ran her fingers over his scarred, scratchy cheek, something she seemed to be fond of doing now, and she kissed him.

When she pulled away, she whispered, "I want you to stay. But I won't force you."

Tyrion smiled and ran his thumb across her face. "There you are again, with your courtesies. I need you, you know. As man and wife, we need to be together. It's been far too long. I will stay, Sansa. I will stay."


	5. Epilogue

Writer's note: I am so, so sorry this took forever. A lot of stuff came up and I kind of forgot about the ending of this fic. Anyways, I hope you all can forgive me.

Thank you very much for the support you've given me with this fic! Another one may be coming soon. :)

"Just a few more pushes, Aunt Sansa," Myrcella cooed as she wiped Sansa's brow again.

Sansa knew she was crushing her niece's hand only as she squeezed it harder. She was trying so very hard not to scream, and she was cursing herself for refusing milk of the poppy. _It will be worth it, _she repeated to herself. _Soon I will have a babe. _

It had been a long nine months. She had never seen Tyrion so happy after she told him she was with child. He had kissed her, kissed her everywhere- her lips, her cheeks, her stomach...

Soon after, Tommen and Myrcella came to stay with them, after being in exile in Dorne. It had taken so much work, countless ravens going back and forth between Winterfell and the Capital.

The Dragon Queen had been more than happy to allow Tyrion's (and now Sansa's) niece and nephew to live with them. It had been Prince Doran Martell who had been the trouble. He had grown to like Myrcell and Tommen- as well as their worth.

Tyrion was forced to ride to King's Landing and practically beg in front of the court and Doran for their release.

"I am their only living relative to date," he had said with Sansa watching from a distance. "They have lost everyone else; their mother, their father, their brother...

"And I love them. I need them. By all the gods, I swear that they would be safe in mine and my lady wife's keep."

Sansa willed herself not to weep. _This is my lord husband. He is stronger than any knight. _

At last, Daenerys gave Doran Martell the royal order to release Myrcella and Tommen to their aunt and uncle.

Sansa knew that Winterfell would be very different from Dorne. She could not change the chills that came every night in the wind, or the frozen pines, but she could give them a home. She could give them solace, and the knowing that they were loved.

Myrcella and Tommen seemed to adjust well. They immediately started calling her "aunt", and so loved Tyrion. He would go into Tommen's chambers every night and tell him stories. Sometimes they were stories every child hears, about Ser Duncan the Tall and Aegon the Conquerer. Other times they were stories about his time in Essos, being in the lion pit and fighting with the Second Sons.

There were days that Myrcella would feel burdened by all that had happened to her. When she became more self-conscious than usual about her facial scarring, she talked to Tyrion, and they would sit for hours, drinking tea and sharing the way they both felt about being disfigured.

But when Myrcella mourned and longed for her mother, she would come to Sansa.

"I miss the way she smelled, and when she smiled," Myrcella had told her one day. "Aunt Sansa, I can't believe she was so cruel to all those people. Sometimes, she was even cruel to me... But I miss her."

"You can miss her and know she wronged many people at the same time," Sansa had replied, taking the girl into her arms. "Your grief is not wrong. Don't let anyone ever tell you otherwise."

As Sansa's belly had begun to swell, she would sit with Myrcella and Tommen in her chambers. Together they would sew clothes for the baby, and chatter excitedly.

"Do you think the baby will look more like you, or Uncle Tyrion?" Tommen asked her many a time.

"In my dreams, the baby's hair favors mine, but the eyes are a beautiful green, like yours and Tyrion's."

"Do you think it will be a boy or a girl?"

Sansa put down her sewing and smiled at the boy. He was much thinner than he had been the last time she had seen him in King's Landing, but his cheeks were still rosy all the time. "I don't know, but whatever it is, I will be happy."

Sansa squeezed Myrcella's hand again as Tyrion waddled in quickly. Sansa looked up long enough to see his eyes widen in horror, and she was able to stifle a laugh.

"Lord husband," she said shakily, but with a smile. "Is this your first childbirth to witness?"

"Lady wife, I am afraid so." He rushed to her side so that both of her hands were occupied.

"One more push, m'lady," the midwife said. "I can see the crown of his head."

So Sansa pushed, with all of her might, crushing her niece and her husband's hands, and allowed herself to scream, if only a little bit.

Every new parent Sansa had met always hoped for a boy, an heir. But Sansa had secretly hoped for a girl. She felt it would be easier, especially if it was her first.

And that is what the gods gave her. A beautiful baby girl, with brassy hair and beautiful green eyes, just like her father's.

Tyrion had been the first to hold her. He looked like he was trying to be so, so careful, holding her tightly, but not too tightly. _From a distance, it looks like his eyes are filling with tears, _Sansa thought to herself with a small smile.

When he looked up at her, she knew she was right. "She is beautiful," he said simply.

Sansa nodded, trying not to weep herself.

Tyrion passed their daughter to her. "We never discussed names. There's... there's no woman in my family who I would want to name her after. Would you...?"

"No," Sansa said immediately. "My mother told me once she wouldn't want any of us to name a child after her. She never said why. And something tells me Arya wouldn't want to be the namesake."

Tyrion laughed in agreement. "Well, we don't _have _to name her after someone."

There was a long silence as they were both thinking of names. _It has to be perfect, _Sansa thought. _She needs a strong name, one that fits right with her face. _

She stared at her daughter. She had fallen asleep, with her tiny fist resting under her chin. Sansa was stroking her crop of light copper hair when she thought of the perfect suggestion.

"Daella. Daella Lannister."

Tyrion looked up. "I like that. It's strong, and beautiful."

"There was a woman who would sell vegetables in town when I was a girl," Sansa explained as she remembered the woman, kind with flowing dark hair. "I was eight when she told me she was expecting a child. If it was a girl, she said she'd name her Daella. But she gave birth to a son, and she died right after. I've liked the name since."

Tyrion was silent for a moment. He moved his jaw as though he was tasting the name in his mouth, and blinked as though he was repeating it in his mind. "Yes," he said finally. "That's a wonderful name. Daella Lannister."

Sansa reached over carefully, as not to wake up their now named daughter, and planted a kiss on her husband's mouth.

Sansa remembered when Rickon was born. After the family had had a few hours with him, a septa had taken him into the chambers next door.

But she turned away the septas when they came for Daella. "Thank you, but I would like to put her in bed myself." They had nodded curtly and bustled away.

Tyrion came with her. They worked together to ease her into her little bed. She did not even stir when her head was on the pillow, only puckered her lips and went back to dreaming.

Sansa clutched Tyrion's hand. "She's beautiful," she said for what had to be the 100th time that day.

He lightly kissed the back of her hand. "_We _are beautiful."


End file.
